


Sacred

by Amraklove



Category: Naruto
Genre: Ancient Egypt, Ancient History, F/M, SasuSaku - Freeform, sasusaku au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:48:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29403639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amraklove/pseuds/Amraklove
Summary: Life in Egypt is plain, to say the least. Her bare, dirty feet carry her toward a golden-basked path she knows too well. Silver, delicate bracelets adorning her wrists and ankles jiggle as she walks on the road; the white linen of her tunics moves with new waves of heat. Sasuke has returned, Sakura loves, and life in Egypt is plain. / AU; Set in ancient Egypt.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, this is not a new work of mine as it has been posted on other platforms for a while now, but I thought I should post it here too. So far, I have a Prologue and 6 chapters written, and will update as I write more. If you haven't read it before, I hope you enjoy and comment! :)

_(0)_

Her bare, dirty feet carry her toward a golden-basked path she knows too well. Silver, delicate bracelets adorning her wrists and ankles jiggle as she walks on the road; the white linen of her tunics moves with new waves of heat. She greets everyone she encounters by, and they greet her back.

The steps ahead of her are pure stone and yellow paint, higher from the ground as further as her vision travels from below her feet. The air around her is dry and hot, and the sky above her is cloud-less. It is no anomaly; it is a normal day.

She takes the required steps up the sun-stroked path, each and every one lighter than the previous one, and stops right in front of a set of invisible gates—tall arches that extend to the sky, reaching the gods with unabashed glory. Glancing to her left, she places her hands on a basin next to one of the arches, and purifies herself in the warm water, like every morning since she remembers being protected by a high-up, godly decorated ceiling.

She enters the temple, and she sets out to clean the inside walls with a warm cloth. A small voice sounds next to her.

"A message for you, Chantress."

She stops making the bottom of the wall shine, a job she tries to perform everyday at the earliest of hours, and looks at Hinata—all makeup and young beauty—in the heat of Egypt. Sakura doesn't have time to acknowledge her with a nod, but instead of finding it rude (for the next words come out before her own), she has no regrets for the interruption by the end of the unexpected announcement.

"I must say, a guard has notified me on my way here, and left before I could ask for anything else." Her voice is quiet, though it does not quiver.

Sakura waits; thus she waits for it, because she has a feeling in the pit of her stomach. She slowly stands up, walks the stoned floor toward the young woman a few steps ahead of her, and stops, almost biting her lip at the look Hinata gives her—and she knows what the message is about before she even explains, but she listens to it all the same.

"The General has expressed to let you know that he's arrived safely to the city," Sakura holds her breath, eyes widening at the statement, "and that he'll be in the palace for the day." She finishes with a polite smile and resumes to her duties in the third room of the temple, down a hallway and saved only for statues.

Sakura's hand shakes slightly—it had been so long, too long. A month. Was it two? Maybe three, even, if she lets her mind trick itself—when she's scrubbing the dirt off the face of a sculpture of Isis, the goddess of this temple, and she shakes her trembles away as soon as she takes notice.

Sasuke has returned.


	2. 5-8

_(1)_

They are sitting on the steps of her parent's house—empty as they had left for work early.

Sakura eyes the small rock in her hand and throws it at the grey pavement, hoping it breaks into two equal parts—it doesn't, so she sighs and turns her attention to the boy next to her at the lack of things to do.

He looks at her, and smiles with a set of orderly white teeth that shine happiness; she smiles back. He tilts his head upwards, hand over his eyes to cover his vision, and gazes at the burning sun high above them.

Children are running on the streets.

She stares at his handsome, young profile—slightly pointy nose, plum lips, suave features, long eyelashes, swiftly tanned skin, sweaty complex.

She doesn't blame him, she's starting to perspire too, even if they sit under the shade of her front porch.

A sudden and unexpected surge of cool wind blows past them and shakes her greasy cotton hair while she keeps looking at him, gazing at the sky in peace. His spiky, unruly locks of brightly yellowed hair sway with the air—it leaves as soon as it comes. His sun-kissed hair is short—the tips don't get to grace his small shoulders, but they come close to.

"Naruto," she voices out, finally glancing to the empty, narrow streets in front of them, not meeting his baby blue eyes. Too wide and full of life. Too unique.

His attributes are weird. Too out of place in the city. As one of the only few people with that hair and eye colour, he stands out all the time. The vivid colours that adorn him are an aberration, and she's almost the only friend he has because of this. There's Sakura and maybe Lee, and _him_. Dark, friendly eyes jump in her mind almost immediately and she supresses her blush quickly.

The sky is clear of any clouds, a sign of less water to consume. She inwardly sighs, and hopes Ra, up on his mighty throne, observing and creating and ruling, doesn't see her.

Naruto waits for her to ellaborate, and she does so minutes later.

"Do you have a dream?" The question is thrown delicately over her shoulder; people passing by don't get to hear it, but he does. His golden eyebrows scrunch up together, the inquiry bothering his immature mind, and he makes a sound come out of his mouth reminiscent of a caged animal. "A dream?" He repeats, replaying the word inside his head simultaneously.

When her eyes finish roaming his profile, she looks at the narrow paths to her left, a mountain leading to the market of the city. "Yes, a dream." She thinks of any other explanation, and finds that a small smile has come to her lips without her knowledge. She lets it rest there.

"What do you wish to accomplish in this life?"

Knowing each other since the beginning of time, for their mothers had met way before them, he trusts her enough for any of his most personal secrets—as they're not adults yet, he has not many. Just one.

He smiles, and then inches closer to her, until his lips are a grain of rice away from her right ear; she holds her breath.

"I will become the next King," he whispers, so as to let her know (and only her) about his future devotion.

She gasps, turning quickly once he settles again next to her, eyeing him with so much astonishment first that he, for a second, regrets saying anything at all. However, her face morphs into a more serious one, one that holds affection in her bright, innocent eyes.

The King? A pharaoh is the absolute ruler of this short-lived life; a pharaoh is a King, an entity to respect and serve under the watchful eyes of the gods; a pharaoh is "commit a sin and you will die"; a pharaoh is not anybody, he is holy and chosen. A pharaoh can decide who dies and who lives; who gets to go into the next life. Naruto as King? She wants to say it's an atrocity, but that's not what would be best, she knows.

In only a minute later, she plants her right hand onto his tanner, left hand. She squeezes tight—reassuringly—and smiles.

His shining blue eyes and soft features and blond hair flash in her eyes as she stares at him for a long time, the setting light making everything seem a bit more orange. A King is someone special. Looking at Naruto, now, she knows what to say.

She has no doubt.

"You will be a great Pharaoh."

They quietly laugh on the steps of her house; the almost nonexistent percentage of chances of that happening is never really touched. Naruto turns to her with a smile of his own.

"Do _you_ have a dream?"

The sun is almost disappearing behind the stone buildings in front of them; they're five and dreamy, apparently, and Sakura thinks.

Her mother smiles at her in her memory, healing hands on a battered body, mending a broken man with the touch of her skin and secret spells she never tells anyone about. Her father, on the other hand, a cheerful man with the strongest set of arms in the whole city; day and night building new homes for every person who needs it and has the necessary resources.

Naruto notices she gives his hand a little squeeze, before retrieving hers slowly. She looks at the ground, fists the ends of her dusty clothing, a small smile gracing the corners of her pink lips, and finally finds a proper answer in her.

"I want to help," he looks at her, interest picking, "I want to give and offer; I want to fulfil this short life making the gods happy, making _people_ happy." She finishes, glancing at him through her long bangs.

A set of wide, white teeth grin at her in the confidence of the almost dark street. "That's a good dream, Sakura-chan."

She has no doubt.

Sakura stands up, and offers him a hand to stand too. He has to leave to his house soon, now that the sky is a darker colour.

"Yeah."

* * *

Ino has been her friend since she has a memory. Ino is her friend whenever she looks at a flower and thinks of tan complexion and exotic beauty. Ino is her friend since she remembers.

The only other person with characteristics similar to Naruto's—blue eyes and blonde hair and soft edges and such an ethereal beauty that she thinks it's surreal sometimes—inhabiting the city.

Ino doesn't mind what anyone thinks. She paints around her eyes and on her eyelids in vivid colours and talks with boys that aren't her age. Sakura can never be like her, but they're six, and they're friends.

She's holding red to her lips, the brush moving along them slowly as if unsure, sitting on a chair while she looks in the reflection of a metallic mirror.

"What's that?" Sakura inspects her from up close, frowning at the elongated object in an elegant hand. She sits opposite to her friend.

"This," she flashes the deep red in front of Sakura's face, and smiles, "is to make your lips prettier."

Sakura sees how Ino turns to look at her, and her eyes widen at how beautiful she looks with red adorning her lips perfectly. It doesn't really contrast, but rather compliments the blonde as her skin is of a warm hue. She's seen painters enhancing a female's lips the same colour before, every time she takes walks with her parents around the local market, but she had never seen the object itself in person.

Ino stands up and walks toward her with the long brush still in hand, smile present.

"Would you like to try?"

Sakura wants to refuse, to tell her that she doesn't want to. Her mother wears a fair amount of makeup everyday, and she tells Sakura that lower class children don't need it as much. She almost denies Ino. But she really, _really_ wants to see how she looks. A tiny part of her wants to be vain.

Later, as she's staring at her reflection in the Nile, she scrubs her hand against the paint, quickly taking it off and washing her hands with infuriating will. The image of her furious red lips stays in her brain for years. After seeing the contrasting difference between her rosy hair and the red stain on her mouth, she doesn't touch an object like that one for many more.

No, she'll never be like Ino. She is pretty, as she is told a decent amount of times, but the more makeup she puts on to accentuate her attributes, the worse it looks on her.

She'll never be like Ino, but now she knows to never try again.

She goes home with a lighter heart.

* * *

They look up at the immensity of The Palace, eyes wide and mouths open.

"Stop moving so much!"

"You're stepping on my hand!"

"Shh, they're going to find us if you don't stop fidgeting."

The royal palace is big, so much so that she doesn't think there's any other building larger than this one in the whole city of Konoha. Moving the small bushes aside, they see the backyard ahead of them—the gardens and the numerous plants making her eyes even wider at how Ino would love to get to see this—past the short fence that covers part of the view from where they stand. Behind them, there's something akin to a cliff of sand, so she tries not to move so much.

A closer look at it—a few seconds after her light eyes adjust to the rays cascading onto the earth under them—and Sakura is subtly pointing at a seemingly tall man behind a woman who seems to inspect the flowers under them, crouching beside a small pond on the ground. Naruto looks to where she's pointing, and his mouth closes when the man glances at him from the corner of his honey eyes, somehow bypassing the bushes where they are hiding. Sakura swallows.

The stare is gentle, but harsh, and it roams over the boy next to her before briefly looking her over, and blinking his eyes away disinterested. She feels unprotected hiding behind some bushes in front of the holy place, standing just a few feet away from the grand behemoth and King.

"The King," she whispers, finally gaining her voice back when said King looks at the flowers under his feet.

That day, she witnesses how the hands of the current, mighty Pharaoh travel from the back of the woman's neck down to her front, and end between her open legs. She sees her face; pleasure written all over it. A soft moan escapes her lips before she giggles softly.

The King keeps looking at Naruto, though, and she bites her lip and frowns a little—they're close, but not enough to be _inside_ the palace's gardens. There's a fence and a few meters separating them from the greenest grass she has ever laid eyes on.

When she tugs on Naruto's arm to leave— _the Pharaoh is right there_ , she keeps repeating to herself, such a holy entity she quickly averts her eyes from the intimate moment between the lord and his mistress—he finally stands with the woman and enters through large double doors into a bedroom. Sakura sighs in relief, in an alley, high on a mountain full of sand, in front of the palace Naruto had insisted on seeing for his seventh birthday.

Two guards order them to leave the perimeter of the palace grounds, and they slowly retrieve back to the banal, common-life streets, the intense stare from the king slowly leaving with them.

* * *

She sees him as she bites into an apple, the juice traveling past her jaw at the sight. It is rare, he has so many duties—even as a child, seven years and all—that she barely sees him at all. While she stays at home learning how to read and looking over her mother's manuscripts, he stays at home learning a fourth language and knowing every law and every stance needed to fight. She goes out to buy necessary food and he goes out to assist his father on political matters. Last time she could look at him on the streets, she was five.

She sees him while eating a forgotten apple, and he sees her back.

The red of the apple doesn't compare to the one on her cheeks.

But then he averts his gaze, and she finds it in herself to avert hers too, out of respect—for a moment, only, because then she hears his voice from far down the street, below the hill where she sits, and she thinks her face lights up even more—before turning her eyes toward him once again.

The sky is at its bluest and the climate is at its most humid, but she's used to it all and she looks upon him like she's never seen him before.

He's playing ball with Naruto. She wants to trek down the sand and play with them too, but her parents would disapprove and girls don't really play ball. She inwardly sighs.

Standing up, she looks at Sasuke before walking away and inside her house. The apple lies on the sand, rolls down the hill, and lands next to his feet.

He looks up to where she had been a few seconds ago, but she's not there.

* * *

Ino touches her arm. She's looking at boys playing in a camp of dry grass. Away from the city and more toward the outskirts. She touches her arm, but Sakura doesn't pay attention.

"Who do you like, Sakura?"

Who _does_ she like? It's obvious. A familiar face and a name come to her faster than she had expected. However, she does not voice those thoughts out loud.

She looks over tan faces and dirty clothes, and even though some faces are attractive enough, they don't compare to him. She can't help but feel nothing when she looks at the strangers playing.

"Boys don't interest me, Ino."

Ino gasps, and Sakura realises her mistake too late. "The priests are against girls liking girls, Sakura."

"No!" She shakes her hands in front of her, cringing at the cacophony that comes out of her lips. She almost implores her to forget about even mentioning that, and quickly arbiters the situation. "I am not inclined toward such likes, Ino."

Ino buys it, it seems, because she only shrugs and quickly prods her with another question. "Then? Do you not like any boy?"

Sakura turns her head to look at her and notices the soft ting of pink on her cheeks. She understands where she's coming from all of a sudden, and asks her the same question.

"Do _you_?"

"Sakura, what an absurd assumption," Ino exclaims, returning her stare and frowning at the little smile. "You do know I always like _at least_ one boy."

"Really? Who is it this time, then?" She asks, crossing her lithe arms across her chest.

Ino hums as if in deep thought, looking up at the sky before looking back at her with a sheepish smile.

"Kiba's pretty cute, don't you think? But..." She drifts off, her smile turning almost sinful. "Sasuke is _so_ handsome. It would have to be him. Can you imagine? Me, Ino, wife of the future Pharaoh."

Sakura's taken aback, but she pretends the news don't affect her, and looks as Ino makes a rather ridiculous pose under the burning sun.

They stare at each other for a few seconds against the cheers of the boys a few metres in front of them, and then she can't help but to laugh with her at her antics.

Sakura walks back to her house alone, thinking of their conversation over and over in her head. The sand against her bare, austere feet seems rough instead of the usual softness she's used to feeling. The sky is bereft of any clouds, as usual.

Sakura thinks of Sasuke. And when she's home and her mother gives her food and she's staring at the sole window in the kitchen, she knows her answer.

Yes, she likes a boy. He's smart and he's handsome and he's out of reach. She never really tells Ino—at least, not verbally, lest she starts a fight with no end in sight.

* * *

"Mother," Sakura prods, her light feet coming in her line of vision from under the papers she's holding. She's reading over a letter from The Palace, and she shouldn't be bothered, but then again, Sakura is no burden. Her mother calmly leaves the manuscripts on the table to look at Sakura.

"Yes?"

Word on the streets has reached her small, attentive ears. She has been eager, almost, to know its truthfulness.

"What happened to the Uchiha family?"

It is a personal question to her, but she tries to make it as nonchalant as possible, even if she knows she's doing a terrible job.

Her mother outwardly flinches, and that's how she knows that _she_ knows the answer to all the questions she has swimming through her head—rumours were only gossip amongst the townspeople, but Sakura wants to know with certainty. What little she has heard may be true, but it just as well may not be.

As a doctor, Sakura knows her mother had been the first one to assist in case of an emergency.

Her mother sighs, stands up, and walks past her. Unhurriedly and listlessly, with a soft whisper upon her light locks of hair, she leans down and places a gentle kiss on the top of Sakura's head, earning a frown from her daughter.

"You shall know," she quietly says, "but not yet."

Sakura stares at her back and bites her lip.

* * *

Naruto, the boy she has spent all of her childhood with, is taken to the royal palace with no prior notice when she turns eight, and she spends three days inside her house with no ray of light to shine upon her. Her parents, knowing her and knowing him, don't object once.

When she does come out, though, it is because of Sasuke.


	3. 8-10

_(2)_

The sky cries for many hours and she thinks it almost ironic to mimic her own suffering. The sky cries for days—three, in particular. And amidst the tears that won't stop flowing, she knows it's good news.

She knows that the village, this small and ignorant and blindsided village, rejoices in the fact that it rains.

In a place like the desert, so hot during the day and so cold during the night and so insufferably dry all the time, rain is more than an event to rejoice from; it's a blessing. A blessing from the gods; from Tefnut, goddess of moisture, dew, and rain.

At only eight years of age, she understands how important it is for Tefnut to gift them with a blessing of this magnitude. And it goes on for no more and no less than three exact days.

Sakura can't help but wonder if it's meant for her—if Tefnut has seen her and felt her heartwrenching pain, the hurt of losing a best friend, while she lies on her small and dirty bed, and has decided to mimic her in this way.

Sakura cries for days. She doesn't come out of her house. She eats out of pure necessity, and her parents try to coax her into coming to herself by being in brighter moods around, but giving her enough space so as to not overwhelm her fragile mind. They know, deep down, exactly what's going on. They know she just lost a close person to her, or how she probably wasn't going to see that person ever again—and even if she did, for some reason, she wouldn't be able to approach him for fear of the amber, dark eyes of the Pharaoh looking at her like he did when they were six and curious.

Sakura knows all these things as well, deeply hidden in the bright corners of her still innocent and hopeful heart.

She knows. And it's why she keeps crying.

She thinks about Naruto constantly, but mostly about the certainty that if he was still with her—living with his adoptive parents, poor and always crawling around town for a slice of bread, and harvesting wheat all day long almost every day for something—they would be jumping and playing under the cold droplets, like the other two times in their short lives when it had rained in the village.

But he's gone; _gone_ , taken without at much as a word to her or to his worried parents, and if her mother hadn't been summoned to The Palace by the Pharaoh himself to check on Naruto as his new healer, she wouldn't have known about his whereabouts at all.

So she cries and the sky cries above her sturdy roof, comforting her in a way that makes her hurt, but making everyone else in the village happy. She thinks to herself that it's more of a curse than a blessing.

* * *

"Sakura, honey, you need to wake up."

She can hear her mother shaking her arm slightly, and her eyelids twitch against the impending light that comes through the small square on her room's wall.

It's not too long before she opens her swollen, overly-sensitive eyes to look at her mother's face looming over her, a small smile on her ageing face. She looks down at her daughter's vividly green eyes and represses the urge to frown in worry—she's been crying all night too, it seems.

"I know," her mother soothingly starts, moving to sit right beside her hip at the edge of the small bed. "I know that your friend is gone."

Sakura visibly flinches.

"But not all hope is lost, I mean, take the Uchiha boy as an example. You have hung out with Sasuke and Naruto before, right? I've seen you."

Sakura doesn't know why her mother is mentioning Sasuke, a boy that she can barely talk to without embarrassing herself in front of the entire village, in a moment like this, while talking about her friendship with Naruto, but she nods nonetheless.

"Exactly. And you and I—and the whole town—know that he lives in The Palace, just like Naruto does now."

"Yes," she responds, waking up once and for all. "He's the Pharaoh's grandchild. What are you saying, mother?"

Sakura does not yet follow, but her mother makes her point clear in the next sentences, hand patting Sakura's leg reassuringly over the thin blanket.

"What I am trying to say, baby, is that..." She pauses, grasping at the correct way to approach this. Sakura wonders what's wrong when her mother stares at the wall above her with coal-rimmed eyes, tired as if she had aged ten more years in the span of five seconds. "You hang out with Sasuke sometimes. You'll most likely hang out with Naruto too, by default. But you must wait for them to get used to each other. Surely, they will let the two boys go outside where you can meet them one day."

Sakura's eyes widen with surprise as realisation dawns upon her; it hadn't even crossed her mind. But then, how would her mother know what they have been doing to him while she must wait? How would her mother know when he's going to leave The Palace and go out to play with her and Sasuke?

Her mother may be his appointed healer—as she is for many at The Palace—but she shouldn't be able to question the workers for information on anyone's schedule.

"How are you so sure?" She asks. Her mother, sand-coloured hair and eyes as big and green as her own, chuckles a little and leans closer. She plants a kiss on her forehead, parting her light amber hair in the process, and leans away.

"Trust me."

As her mother leaves the tiny room, Sakura clings to the hope planted on her mind as best as she possibly can.

* * *

Fall turns into winter, and winter turns into spring, and Sakura turns nine with the passage of the seasons.

Life in Konoha keeps busy as usual. Her mother updates her on Naruto's condition whenever she has to inspect him for regular check-ups, even if the best thing she can say is that he's physically healthy, but Sakura can live with that.

A day after her birthday, a man in a black horse shows up at her doorstep with an official letter from the Pharaoh's Palace and a small package wrapped in expensive paper, and Sakura can barely keep the excitement in herself because she _knows_ who it is that sent them. She pushes past her mother and practically grabs the letter away from her father's rough hands, who just shakes his head and bids farewell to the messenger.

She first opens the letter, sitting on the only chair at the kitchen table, with shaky fingers, and scans through the several symbols with a knowledge she had acquired a few summers back from her mother.

She notices someone else has learnt to decode and write as well, someone she knows well.

There are birds and stones and eyes, but Sakura scans through as if he were telling her the words himself, filling the blanks here and there with her imagination. There is a section that makes her smile; she doesn't even notice her parents hovering over the letter from behind her.

 _You turned nine! It's hard to believe it's been a year since I last saw you, but they have not let me outside yet (it's a miracle I have been given permission to send this to you in the first place). I think about you all the time, though, believe it! I ask about you when your mother comes to check on me, but the guards don't let her answer anything that is not strictly professional. Don't worry about me_ — _because_ _I know you do_ — _for_ _it's not that bad over here. I even learnt how to code these stupid drawings!_

As Sakura reads through the letter, all dramatised stories about his so-called adventures, her smile grows and she feels something akin to a snort rumbling inside her chest, ready to come out. She had missed the feeling of wanting to laugh because of him, so, so terribly.

Her smile leaves her at the last passage.

 _Sasuke here wishes you a happy birthday. Do not tell him I said it, but he chose the gift because I could not decide_ — _I still got you something, of course! Enjoy my sweets._

She reads and reads over the symbols, again and again, and she wants to ask her mother about a possible different meaning to the images, but she knows she is reading them right. In which case, she can't help the sudden rush that courses through her body.

She hides her flustered face with her hair as she looks down and leaves the paper on the table—her parents grab it after she leaves the chair and start reading over it again.

She unpacks the small box. Inside, there are sweets she has never seen before (courtesy of Naruto), and the most beautiful white dress she has ever laid eyes on (courtesy of Sasuke, something she has yet to believe).

Nevertheless, from then on, every time she gets a year older, she receives the same box with a different kind of exotic food and a white, gorgeously tailored, embroidered tunic with golden details along the lace. Strangely, they all fit her like a glove.

* * *

Lee runs up to them one hot and dry afternoon.

"Girls, have you heard?"

Sakura and Ino are sitting on the latter's front porch, decorated with the finest of flowers to exist in this part of the globe—Ino's mother was known across the country as the Pharaoh's favourite landscaper, after all. She's braiding the blonde's long, silky hair when he appears down the narrow streets.

When he reaches them, he's completely out of breath. Obviously, this was important, so Sakura halts her hands and looks at him attentively, then. It's not that he had run all the way down the long street to reach them, or that he had been so out of breath, because the boy was always running here and there; it was no surprise to them. It had been his panicked voice that had alerted her immediately.

"Have you heard? The Pharaoh's wife is pregnant!"

Their eyes widen considerably, both at the same time. Sakura's narrow in confusion, then, while Ino's glow in excitement.

"Lee, those are great news!"

"I know! I just found out and I have been racing all over town to let everyone know! I only have Shikamaru and Tenten left."

Sakura's brain automatically filters their voices out until she sees amber eyes directed at her and at Naruto with a hidden glint in them. She sees a hand travelling down a woman's front and cupping the space between her legs, and she wonders if that's the one who's pregnant—if that's his wife or just one of many.

"Uchiha Madara's first wife is pregnant?" She asks, confused. "Mother said once that she could not bear any more heirs to the position, though."

There is a long pause where Sakura stares at both of her friends, who look back at her like she has suddenly lost all her smooth hair and grown a second nose.

"What is it?" She inquires, a deep voice in her mind telling her that she's obviously missed something. And that she has.

"You mean Itachi?" Lee asks, thick brows pulled down in utter confusion. Ino looks at her as if she knows what's going on inside her best friend's head—which, even if Sakura feels she doesn't, she does.

"After what happened, Itachi ascended to power. You know that, right? It happened right after they took Naruto."

Sakura frowns and thinks two years back—to when she had heard rumours of death and betrayal in the god-like family, and when her mother had told her she couldn't know about it just yet.

"I didn't... I did not know. Nobody told me."

She looks at the ground and her frown deepens further, biting the inside of her cheek as she puts the puzzle pieces together from that day.

"What happened to Madara?"

"Nobody knows," Lee murmurs, his voice uncharacteristically low.

"Or, at least, nobody tells us. After all, only a handful of people outside the clan can enter The Palace grounds at all, let alone talk to anyone in the main branch," Ino adds. "I heard the entire clan got sent to Suna forever."

Lee chips in, voice a whisper so that no passerby can hear the taboo words that escape his mouth. "I heard Itachi killed everyone and kept the throne for himself."

Ino shakes her head. "That's ridiculous, Lee, they obviously left to Suna and are ruling over there."

"That makes no sense, why in the world would they do that? There's already a ruler there!"

Sakura feels herself grow with more questions by the second. Few things make sense to her at the time about the ordeal.

Something that no one dares to tell her had happened to the Uchiha family, then they had taken Naruto for yet another reason no one bothers to tell her, and then Itachi, the new Pharaoh, is soon to be a father.

On top of it all, she hasn't physically seen Naruto or Sasuke in two whole years, and the two letters that she has from the former are starting to feel too insignificant for her growing need for answers.

Sakura's ten and lonely and confused.

* * *

Unfortunately, with the news of a new heir to the throne, The Palace's guards are—impressively—tripled in number. Not only is she not allowed in the sacred grounds, but she's also instructed by her parents to not even get close to them. Basically, she is to avoid the place and its wide perimeter, all around the hill at the centre of the village and as far back as where the sacred temples are located.

It's easy, at first, to follow these clear orders. But after almost three years of not seeing her best friend, she starts noticing some patterns.

She starts realising that Naruto will never be her friend again as he had been since they were practically born. It's simple in her mind. They're not equals now; not as they had been before.

She starts realising that this is true, but that it also is not really his fault that she hasn't been able to see him. He is forbidden to go outside and seek someone as low as her, even as the child of the Palace's healer.

She starts realising that it's only upon herself to see him again—in her hands, not his—and so she spends days thinking it over.

She can't be near The Palace, much less enter without good reason. She can't send letters back, and she can't know for sure if Naruto would ever be allowed outside, or when. So she starts realising that _she_ has to go inside his new home. If he can't go outside, then she must try to get in. She must.

She concludes, one windy afternoon, that it's the fastest way to get her friend back, lest she has to wait until he comes of age and is allowed to do as he so pleases.


	4. 11-14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting all the chapters I've written all at once so you don't have to wait. There are also no honorifics in their names because this is an AU. It's Egypt, so even if I like Naruto calling her by Sakura-chan, it is what it is.
> 
> P.S. The name of each chapter shows the age range of Sakura through the story, if you missed it for some reason. We're finally about to enter the adolescence arc :)

_(3)_

Sakura's eleven when she proposes the unusual idea to her mother, and twelve when she finally acquiesces, when she finally gives in to her daughter's pleading eyes and incessant questions.

Sakura's just turned thirteen when she's let inside the Palace, all mighty and grand, and her steps are slow and steady so as to let her take everything in; the tall columns, the startling height of everything, and the amount of flora everywhere in a place where she had always thought to be dry and gloomy are things nothing short of stunning.

The immensity of the place, so far out of reach for her a few months prior to this day, is now at the tip of her fingers. And even if her mind is focused on her duties and her vision is centered in marveling at the architecture of the large Palace, her heart betrays her as she subconsciously looks, ever since she steps past the threshold of Palace grounds, for a blond mop of spiky hair around every corner.

She's led inside by a pair of men in light armour, past the threshold of the tall gates and past the main building where the Uchiha reside. She's quietly led into a field of sand with a stone path that moves toward the sharp edge of the hill—where the Palace lies in the very centre of the village—and breaks off into three different paths that lead to temples, located right by the gates that surround the cliff's edge. She should be terrified that she's going to live right by a very steep cliff, but she's rather preoccupied by other matters.

All the way there, her distracted eyes betray her as she looks, discreetly so as to not alert the guards or the onlookers, for her blond, incredibly loud friend.

As she stands in front of the three sun-kissed, far-away temples, she suppresses a disappointed sigh from escaping her lips, though it is difficult. The temple situated in the middle is the largest and most intricately decorated one, with two statues of what she thinks are clones of Sekhmet—god of war and healing—standing proud and strong seven feet from the ground.

She never really finds Naruto amongst the people who come watch her delve into the culture of the Gods, mostly due to the fact that she has no time to stop and wander about the premises, but she manages to find Sasuke instead.

He's one of the many who stand on the sidelines—people with fine robes and silks, most of whom she has never seen before, watching her with careful eyes and distrustful glances here and there. He stands beside his older brother during the entire ceremony, and she never really gets to talk to him, but she appreciates the little details in his changes from the distance between them.

He is taller now, and that is the first thing she notices when their eyes meet from across the gardens; his dark eyes are still ever-so large and his pale cheeks are still round and full, and she has the urge to smile at him the moment she spots him in the crowd of whispers and looks—just because it has been _five_ years and, apart from the subtle difference in height, he still looks like the Sasuke she remembers.

The guards ahead of her start walking once again along the rocky path, signaling her to start trailing behind them too, so she glances away from her other childhood friend and moves forward. She nears the three temples at the end of the southern gardens all-too-soon, in her opinion. None of the people watching her—workers, royal family, and noblemen alike—dare speak, but she hears the confusion and admirable stares anyway.

The life of a priestess is not an easy one, as she has heard her mother try to explain to her for days, months, years. After all, the priestess falls right under the title of High Priest in the country, which falls under the title of Pharaoh—ultimate ruler in this life.

It was no easy feat to get her inside the Uchiha premises to begin with, either, but her mother is a very trusted and respected healer in the Palace, and she had finally talked to the High Priest after many rounds of pitiful begging from Sakura's side—something she's not quite proud of, but she understands it had to be done to achieve these results.

After one full, long intake of breath, she smiles to herself as the men in front of her take a turn on the fork that separates the three temples, moving instead to the one on the left—smaller, but still breathtaking, with sand-covered steps that reach three feet up onto a smooth surface, the entrance in itself lined with several columns that seem to touch the skies. It's simpler than the middle temple, but it's in no way bland.

The guards ahead of her stop suddenly, halting her steps in the process as well. They wait for the High Priest to come out and welcome the rose-haired woman inside for her inevitable training, and as Sakura looks at the temple in all of its splendity, she knows—this will be hers.

* * *

Sakura starts every day of the week with incense so as to wake the gods. Specifically, the goddess she has vowed and sworned several times to look up to, to worship and adore.

She wakes up and lights up every candle in the temple, moving to the shrine only at the end. Her ritual white linen tunic and white papyrus sandals are never traded for anything else—she wears these everyday, washes them and wears them again, and owns three pairs more.

She bows before Isis, ruler of the protection and magic that comes with motherhood, crown high above the statue's head—though she is not the main God being represented in this temple.

The building where she remains day and night belongs to Osiris, the deity in charge of the life that will come after this one, and a very important aspect of everyone's lives in the present, in turn. But she is training to become a young priestess, and so she is given a room for her worshipping in the back of the temple where she takes care of Osiris' wife and sister, Isis.

In her mind, she can't help but think that this woman had fought tooth and nail to bring her husband back from the dead when murdered, and that she healed him with magic and love and bore him a son soon after. She can't help but think that she should be standing next to her husband at the front of the temple, not in the back like some forgotten deity.

She worships her anyway, proving to her master just how good she is at her job, cleaning the entire room everyday and taking care of leaving tokens of her appreciation by the sandy feet of Isis without fail.

Said blonde appears a second after she finishes thanking the Goddess, hand on the umbral's material.

"Are you done?"

Sakura widens her eyes at the unexpected visit, but otherwise nods curtly, standing and facing her master: the High Priestess—whom she thought was _priest_ before being baffled at the revelation of a woman on her ceremonial day, a few weeks back.

This fact had only given her more motivation to rise up in the ranks. If a High Priestess existed, that could only mean she would have no problem taking her position in the future.

"I am," she responds, voice small and insecure before this imposing, intimidating woman. "Do you need me for something else?"

"I do, kid," she says, and the familiarity startles Sakura for a moment. It hasn't even been a month since she got passage into the temples.

Tsunade crosses her arms in front of her chest, accentuating her very unusually large, barely covered breasts. Everything she had thought to know about the High Priest had been butchered and erased from her mind ever since she started working alongside one of her caliber. Tsunade doesn't care about much; she pays tribute to the Gods like no other, gives orders to the other caretakers at the two leftover temples, and wears whatever attire she desires, nevermind the rules and the norm.

Nobody ever tells her anything either, which only makes Sakura doubtful and curious at the same time, though not enough to investigate further why this woman is given so much freedom in such line of work.

"What is it?" She asks when the blonde doesn't speak for a few more seconds than considered normal, and looks at the polished floors when said woman only raises one eyebrow at her impatience.

"I don't know if you think worshipping the Gods is what you'll be doing here," she starts, and Sakura lifts her eyes to regard her. "It's not the _only_ thing."

Sakura frowns against her better judgement. This she had not expected to hear, and her next words only leave her even more confused than before.

"You must learn the art of healing, and I will teach you," Tsunade explains, uncrossing her arms and pacing around the pristine, small room. "All my priests and priestesses know the basics, and you will be no exception."

Sakura speaks before she can make up her mind.

"Is my mother not the healer of the Palace? Is she not in charge?"

As if expecting this question, Tsunade answers her without a pause.

"Of course. But when she is not here, any of us can help in case of an emergency and," she winks, smiling a little when she mutters the next words. "Who do you think taught your mother to begin with?"

She widens her eyes in bewilderment. Just how old is she? She certainly does not look the part. Her mother is younger and she already has several wrinkles and frown lines marring her features, whereas her mentor still looks young and carefree.

It must be the makeup, she thinks, as she follows her master through the hallways and into another room full of vials, concoctions, and scrolls.

* * *

Sakura's thirteen when she's admitted inside the Palace and assigned to one of the temples, and fourteen when she's finally allowed to go outside.

After much training in the art of worshipping, cleaning, paying tribute, muttering the right prayers, decorating the place everyday, and healing from time to time, she's trusted enough to be allowed outside of the temple's walls.

She can go out into the sand, the gardens on the other side of the Palace, or into the Palace itself—with restrictions as to exactly where, but this does not matter when she can go inside at last.

When they tell her the news, she only nods and thanks her mentor for letting her have such freedom after only a year of training under her tutelage. But the next day, she leaves the temple and has to do everything in her power _not_ to run toward the imposing building several feet away.

She finds him next to Sasuke, out in the courtyard doing passes with their infamous ball, almost looking downright bored, if she's honest. She skids to a halt as soon as she lands her eyes on him; on his tan complexion, his contagious smile, his sparkling blue eyes, and the expensive garments that adorn him. He has, like Sasuke a few feet in front of him, grown since the last time she saw him.

And when he turns to retrieve the strayed ball and looks at her for the first time in years, she loses all ability to breathe.

"Sakura?"

His voice is the same high-pitched mess she remembers, though a little raspier and deeper, and it's a moment later that she's running, forgetting all of her duties as a priestess in training and all that is expected of her as she runs.

His arms envelop her like a second skin, and she feels at home, for a moment, as she buries her face in the crook of his neck.

After so many years, so much hardship, so many days spent crying, devising plans, and looking forward to this exact moment, she has it; she finally, undoubtedly has her best friend in her grasp, and no one—not even the guards eyeing her with caution and at the edge of separating them—will stop that anymore. Not now, nor ever.

She pushes back the tears that are threatening to spill when they let go after several minutes, and the smile that erupts on her face feels foreign but so, so much needed.

"I can't believe they finally let you out!" He exclaims, placing his hands on her skinny shoulders and squeezing with excitement, and Sakura keeps smiling even though she finds this statement strange.

"You knew? You've known all along?" For a fleeting second, she looks as Sasuke kicks the ball aside and approaches them slowly.

"Sasuke told me last year about your new job," he wiggles his eyebrows then, chuckling when she only gives him a sour look. "But I'm not allowed to visit, so I've just patiently waited for you to be let out."

"She's not a dog, idiot," a voice behind her startles her for a second, and she gives a little jump against her best wishes. She only sighs in relief when Sasuke moves to their sides instead of choosing to stand behind her. "And more like begged every known high official for it every single day."

"I did not! Sakura, don't listen to this buffoon."

At Sasuke's eye roll, Sakura can only do so much in containing her giggles before she laughs. She can't help herself, and apparently neither can Naruto. When she looks to her left in between fits of laughter, she sees that even Sasuke is sporting a light smirk.

She grabs Naruto's hand before she can stare for too long.

"Forget about that, tell me everything you've done here. I have to go back soon."

They walk to one of the benches lining the Palace. While he speaks, she tries to ignore the image of Sasuke walking away, clearly not invited but always welcome.

Naruto tells her all about his adventures, all about the world that he had only dreamt of before. She knows being considered a Prince now helps in his lifelong dream of becoming Pharaoh—she remembers from when they were little, talking about their lives and their dreams like they were twenty—even if he's not a true blood or a candidate to the throne.

His giggly laugh and shining eyes only make her listen more intently, and she explains everything she has learnt about her position as well, though she doesn't mention how the entire reason for it is because she'd only wanted to see him again. Maybe that had been a childish action in her part, but not really, not when she finally has him beside her.

She thinks it's all been worthwhile when she sees him everyday, at every moment that she can, and he's always waiting on the outskirts of the temples, sometimes with Sasuke and sometimes alone.

She sees her mother whenever she has to do her weekly check-ups on Sasuke and Naruto—and Itachi's toddler up in his chambers on the highest floor, whom she has never seen—as well, and watches as she uses herbs and ointments when needed, as part of her training too.

She's nearing her fifteenth birthday when Tsunade grants her the official title of Priestess of the Uchiha rule, and she's escorted outside of the Palace's grounds and down the hill until they reach the closest, secluded side of the river Nile.

As per ritual for every new priest, she bathes in the pure, cold waters on the official day, and swears to the worship of the Gods for the rest of her short life.

She has more responsibilities and duties from then on, and sees Sasuke and Naruto fewer times; few and far in between.


	5. 14

_(4)_

Her duties as official Priestess of the nation and of the Uchiha ruling don't change much from her duties as a mere trainee. She is still in charge of the Temple of Rebirth, the temple where Isis and her husband, Osiris, are revered, only that she's in charge of attending to _both_ gods now—Osiris every morning, and Isis every night.

She stands by the impossibly-tall columns of the temple where she spends most of her days in, leaning on a column by the stairs that lead down to the fertile earth. When the sky is dark enough to hide her contemplative longing, she makes sure it's light enough to let her see all that is the great Uchiha grounds and beyond the hill that keeps the royal palace enclosed, but always before the sun even dares to show signs of making an appearance.

Beyond the three paths that meet in the three main temples of these grounds, beyond her sight as she stands at the threshold, there are gardens she has never let herself really explore before. And past the gardens, past the vast expanse of exotic flowers, trees, and plants, lie both the Uchiha buildings and the grand gate to the outside of the palace grounds.

The buildings face the main gate, and they're a set of intricately-built, separate homes for different societal classes. There is a house for the vizier—the King's personal advisor, and the closest anyone could get to the position of Pharaoh—and the highest, most important administrative units in terms of military sections; such as the infantry, the chariots, and so forth. This house, as she has heard her mother tell her during her studies, has the military's top personnel of only this village's division. It contains the officer in charge of the division, who reports to the superior officer, then comes the captain, the troop commander and troop overseer, the garrison official, and the fortification overseer. The lieutenant commander, the general, and the vizier are on a smaller house next to this one; the general is then below the vizier, who reports directly to the Pharaoh. Such a convoluted hierarchy of power is what has made the nation one of the strongest throughout history, though she hardly tries to understand anything related to the subject matter of war.

Past these two houses is a common area, and past this area is the Palace in its whole three floors of splendor. There are rooms for every royal, Uchiha member, though that number has decreased considerably for reasons she is still unaware of. The great kitchen, the common area, royal bathrooms with tubs the size of pools, and the living quarters are all on the first floor. The second floor is for bedrooms only, and the third is for the Pharaoh and him alone: an open room with small columns lining up the squared area, where the King sits and surveys the city below him.

Past the main building of the palace are the servants' quarters, the stables, and the cattle yards. The servants' quarters are in a one-floor, large house; home to the royal gardeners, artists, architectural designers, weaponry and jewelry designers, and the maintenance and cleaning servants of the entire grounds. Some of her friends' parents live there, though she hasn't seen any in passing yet.

Sakura pretends to see it all from the extravagant entrance of the sanctuary behind her, but she imagines most—after all, she has only ever been through the gate and past the gardens, and she hasn't seen much else than what she has heard of.

As she focuses her vision in the darkness ahead of her once more, a silhouette appears to be walking down the sand path that breaks off into the three temples. And although there are guards stationed every few metres around the compound, there is never a single person walking around at this time, too late to be night but too early to be morning. The person, however, keeps walking toward her, and she debates on whether to wait or hide back inside the temple.

When he takes the path that leads toward this specific temple, she makes her decision and hides behind the column she had previously been leaning on. The column is thick enough to hide her body—and someone else's if needed be.

She barely hears the steps on the chiseled, dried mud of the stairs, which can only mean this person is barefoot. Her heart skips a beat when she realises only direct family members of the Uchiha and priests can walk barefoot on holy grounds.

As he passes by the threshold of the entrance and approaches the basin with water by the opened doorway, she makes out who it is.

Sasuke.

Sasuke, the boy she's been blushing over since she has the mouth to speak, since she knows of reason. Sasuke, more beautiful everyday; taller, stronger, smarter. Sasuke, who looks at her and ignites a rather childish urge to smile, to run up to him and hug him to her—definitely, as she has come to know, a different feeling than when she does the same to Naruto. Sasuke, something unattainable, a lost cause, and something that is far from reach.

Sakura lets a small, quiet sigh escape her lips as she watches him scoop up water with both hands and bring them up to his face. Behind her entrancement by his appearance, she's surprised he even knows he must cleanse himself before stepping inside the temple, and even more surprised that he knows _how_ to do so.

The moment doesn't last that long, of course, but she feels like she has stopped the time and slowed it down enough for her to make out every detail of his appearance. However, it does end, and he goes inside a few seconds later.

She makes herself wait a few minutes for him to come out again and leave, and only then does she calm her racing heartbeat and allows herself to walk inside the temple, back to her bedroom.

As she lies on her bed, she wonders more than she can comprehend.

Why would Sasuke come to the temple? To pray to one of the two gods worshiped, of course, but why at this hour? Why does he come when the temple hasn't opened for visitors yet, when she hasn't cleansed every object and every wall and every floor in the temple as she's supposed to? Why would he make sure no priest is up yet, or even any person at all in the Palace?

Could it be, that in some shape or form, he comes to pray at this time because she's not awake yet and he won't see her? Though it lacks reason or rationale from her part, she barely finds sleep again.

* * *

Osiris, dweller of the underworld and judge of the afterlife, is of a nature green and depicted as mighty on the statue at the front of the temple and inside, indicative of re-growth and new beginnings. Though he is God of all things dead, he is also associated with rebirth and resurrection, a good judge for the passage to the afterlife, and worshiped by many. She stands in front of his tall, incredibly detailed statue and drops to the floor on her knees in silent prayer.

Osiris stands with his arms crossed over his chest, a crook held in one hand and a flail in the other. He wears an Atef crown indicative of his high status with ostrich feathers on the sides. As a sign of stability and constant power, the Djed pillar—a column as tall as the statue, decorated by all symbols that represent the deity, is normally raised as a sign of rebirth in some banquets and festivals—stands next to him, raised so as to proclaim his resurrection, a feat from none other than his wife Isis.

And though he might be at the front of the temple, and is visited way more often than Isis during the day by high officials from the palace, Sakura still holds a special place in her heart for Isis; such a resilient, strong female deity, never afraid of facing the impossible.

As a priestess, she should vow to pray to all gods equally and with respect, but a small part of her still feels detached from this whole practice in ways that it shouldn't. Yet, she reasons that she was never born to become what she has, and the only part of her daily duties she takes pleasure in are the times she gets to practice her healing abilities. At least then she can help people directly instead of through the spiritual, invisible world—not that she doesn't believe in the Gods, because she does, and as she has made a vow to continue in this line of work her entire life, she will stay true to her devotion, only that she had never thought this would be her life-long goal.

She takes comfort, somewhat, in the notion that her High Priestess is more independent than most other officials she knows, and therefore allows her small freedoms. She's allowed to go out the temple once a day and no more regardless of the time she chooses to go, she gets to keep her long hair intact instead of having to shave it all off as is customary—although, on important occasions, she does have to put it back for the fitting of an intricately woven, dark and short wig, decorated to show her high status—and she gets to wear ankle-length, linen white tunics instead of the mere loincloth that commoners wear—that she would have most certainly had to wear had she not decided to become a priestess. She even gets to take a bath four times a day, twice right before the sunrise and twice right after the sunset, to purify her soul and her body for the gods at the purification pool inside the temple.

It might not seem as much, but there are benefits to this job that make it so much better, and the constant cleaning, healing, and praying don't seem like much of a hassle if she thinks of all the advantages she has over the life she has left behind. Especially, she knows, when she gets the added benefit of seeing Naruto almost everyday the one time she's allowed outside the palace. Though most of the times she does see Naruto, she also happens to see Sasuke.

Inadvertently and inadequately, an image resurfaces in her head from the last time she spoke to him.

 _"How can you hang with the biggest idiot on the planet all the time?"_ She had asked him without looking at him. Instead, she had been ruffling Naruto's already-wild hair and laughing at his complaints.

Sasuke had stayed quiet for the most part, only answering when he was sure she would pay attention. Really, she had said it without truly expecting a reply.

_"Would that not make us both so, too?"_

Sakura had stopped laughing, and instead had a small smile that mimicked Sasuke's, looking at him with warmth in her eyes. Naruto had still been complaining, and had been fixing his hair at the time.

_"I guess it does."_

And they're so simple, such quiet and pointless conversations and moments, that she only craves more than what she can get from him.

For a second, she recalls when he had so unceremoniously shown up to the temple to pray a few nights ago.

She shakes her head and focuses on her duties, closing her eyes and feeling the ground beneath her knees start to dig indentations on her skin. She only stops muttering learnt prayers when the pain becomes more of a forgotten memory and less of a nuisance.

* * *

It's on a quiet evening as winter approaches that Sakura sits by the Nile with Naruto, the river's waters already waning from the summer's moderate flood this year. The sun is setting and they're not supposed to be outside the Palace's sand-covered, mud-based barrier, but they sit and talk just like when they were children.

In a way, they still are, but as Sakura thinks of all that has happened since then, she knows it's not true. At least, she doesn't feel the same as when she was freely roaming the narrow streets of her home, lost to the sound of her friends pursuing her whilst playing a game that seems too silly to care for anymore.

"Say, Sakura, is this finally the date you owe me?" Naruto asks, meek and blushing, a sheepish smile gracing his lips before disappearing at the look she gives him; it's a clear warning, but a joke all in all.

They stay like that for a few more seconds before she pushes him a little, and then the space is filled with laughter, just like she remembers it being like.

Life with Naruto as her friend used to be so simple, yet she's glad that, even if their circumstances are more entangled now, they're finally together.

And on that note, as her laughter dies down, she recalls what she's been meaning to ask him for a very long time now.

There's something she hasn't addressed to this point, and it's so obvious it makes her wonder what has been holding her back for so long. He had been eight years old when he was taken to the royal palace; they are almost fifteen already.

She stops staring at the colours that play on the holy water's surface, and turns to look at him.

"I've been meaning to ask you," she says, voice light but face serious.

Naruto hums, uncharacteristically solemn, and throws a pebble at the water by his feet, almost as if knowing what the question is.

"You are considered a _Prince_ now, brother to Sasuke and Itachi, but how? _Why_ exactly did Pharaoh take you in?"

Naruto almost looks guilty for not explaining this to her sooner, and he sighs and scratches the back of his neck as he thinks.

"Well, Sakura, it's just-"

"Naruto!"

She hears his voice and, right in that moment, right when she was about to get the answers she's been searching for for years, it's the first time she's not glad to hear it. That it still brings goosebumps to her skin is another story, however.

"You shouldn't be here," he yells from the top of the hill.

Naruto looks back and stands, opening his arms to Sasuke as if to dare him to do anything against him.

"Yeah? What are you gonna do about it, you bastard?" He exclaims, waiting for him to reach them.

Sasuke finishes walking down the hill from the Palace, and stands right in front of Naruto, eyeing him and shifting his hardened gaze to Sakura a second later—still sitting by the river, with her straight hair down and flowing, the dying light of the sun making it glow a dark shade of honey and highlighting her soft, pale features even more so.

For a moment, he almost thinks it an otherworldly sight.

Sakura sees him looking at her and immediately thinks he's angry at her audacity to go out of the Palace grounds with no supervision—and with a royal prince on top of it all—but then he looks back at Naruto, and she turns to look at the water by her feet in embarrassment.

"How did you even find me? Can't I get a moment alone from time to time?" Naruto exclaims, hands up in the air and huffing puffs of air in anger.

"It makes it a little easier to find you're breaking the rules if you're careless about it. Things like, say, skipping dinner," he deadpans, watching as Naruto sucks in a breath and looks up toward his home.

" _Shit_ , dinner. I just- Sakura here, she- It's her break and- Crap, I totally forgot I had to be there," he babbles on and on, running over the words hurriedly.

Sasuke shakes his head, muttering a string of curses toward himself before sighing and rubbing his forehead in exasperation at the blond's irresponsible behaviour.

"They just announced our battle-tactics teacher. Maybe, if you hurry, you can get to meet him and somehow not make a fool of yourself."

Naruto widens his eyes and turns to look at Sakura.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go! See you later, yeah?" He almost yells at her in his hurry. "I'll make it up to you, I promise!"

And, just like that, he starts running up the hill like something far greater than any of them is chasing him. And, just like that, it's Sasuke and Sakura on the rather private, short stretch of the Nile, reserved only for royal family and high officials alike.

Sakura looks at Naruto leave and turns to face the river once more when she realises that _Sasuke_ is still there, and she closes her eyes and prays to any deity she can remember so that the boy behind her turns, walks up the same way Naruto did, and leaves.

She questions her faith when her prayers go unanswered and she hears his sandals stepping on the sand and coming closer to her, sitting on the stone of the stairs that lead down to the water next to hers a second later—the stone her blond friend had previously sat on.

She speaks before he has the chance to, wanting nothing more than to sink in the water of the river and disappear.

"Shouldn't you go as well?" She asks; extremely bold of her, but necessary.

Sasuke stares at the water before him too, a rather peaceful, somber look in his eyes. She makes the mistake of turning her head to look at his profile, and her heart skips a beat against her better judgement at the sight.

"I already did what I had to, so there is no need."

She turns her face away and hums as her answer, the tension in the air almost palpable.

They stay like that for at least five more minutes, and by the time he speaks, she's already grown accustomed to having him by her side, legs almost brushing from the proximity—though her breath still catches in her throat the moment he talks.

"Sakura," he says, tone serious but calm, sort of quiet. It doesn't prepare her at all for what he insinuates then. "Why are you really here?"

Sakura blinks several times at that, her brain not catching up to the implications the questions brings with it. She would have never thought anyone would ask her that, especially not Sasuke.

But, if she thinks about it, Sasuke is one of the only people with enough reason to question her motives for joining the priesthood, something the King himself has to approve—if not inducted by hereditary means. He's always been the quiet, observant prince, careful and meditative.

Sakura doesn't know if she wants to tell him a lie or the truth; after all, could she really trust him to not tell his brother, the Pharaoh? Has she interacted with him for long enough to know this was not how she planned her life to be? Has she bonded with him enough to trust he will understand and trust her decision?

She would know the answers without having to even think of the questions.

"My prince, I have simply found eternal devotion to the Gods is my purpose in this life. After all, my dream has always been to help people," and, at least, that last part is true.

"How is this helping anyone?"

She pretends to ignore the biting tone to his question, and instead replies with a leveled, practiced tone.

"I help people by serving the Gods, and I have been studying medicine with the High Priestess. In fact, in only one year, I am close to rising up to the next rank in the profession."

Sasuke only stays quiet, elbows on his knees and hands over the lower half of his face.

When he remains quiet, she decides to ask why he has asked her such inquiries.

"Sasuke, why-"

"Do you know of what happened to my family?"

And then, he turns to look at her with ice in his stare, and Sakura feels frozen to the spot at the pure, crimson red hatred in his eyes.

"No, but-"

"Then, you should not be here."

He stands, just like that, and walks back the way he came from.

Sakura's left staring at his retreating form with a heavier heart to carry.


	6. 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, this is as far as I've written. It'll take a little more time to post Chapter 6, but hang on. Reviews are appreciated always.

_(5)_

Winter comes and, with it, the rain washes across the city.

Her fifteenth birthday passes by her and she wakes up that morning knowing this birthday will be different from the rest. It's not the first time she will celebrate it on Palace grounds, but it's the first time she'll be allowed to go outside the temple, and she's excited for what this might mean. Will she see Naruto? Sasuke? Will they gift her the same she has always received from them, some exotic candy and a carefully-sewn dress, or will it be more?

She takes a bath to purify herself before the sun rises, and dresses in her customary white tunic with gold embroidery at the seams, walking barefoot to the shrine of Isis because, once or twice a month, she turns her attention away from Osiris and focuses her undivided devotion toward his lovely wife.

She eats at the back of the temple and takes another bath after just like it's any other day, and her mentor teaches her how to properly go through the process of mummification—she's preparing her, she tells her, to go see the actual process one day with the priests who are in charge of that sector on the other side of the village.

And when the sun is about to dip down below the horizon, she's allowed to go outside on her once-a-day break. She instinctively looks for Naruto as soon as she walks down the steps of the shrine, and finds him already waiting for her by the fountains next to the gardens. She runs to him and hugs him only because she knows the three guards standing nearby won't say a word.

Sasuke's nowhere to be seen.

For the remainder of the time she has with her blond friend, he gives her the candy she so loves and talks with her and tells her all about the battle training he's receiving. But Sasuke is nowhere to be seen.

And when she finally musters up the courage to ask of his whereabouts, Naruto merely laughs and tells her he's out to some meeting with the Pharaoh, to which Sakura only nods. She had been hoping he would come around for her birthday, at least, or show up for even a second, but with the way they had ended their last conversation weeks ago, she shouldn't be surprised or disappointed that he does not show up at all.

* * *

On one of the colder mornings during the late Spring, Tsunade enters her temple bearing news that should—if not because he is the future heir to the throne—sadden her, but they otherwise leave her feeling anxious; excited, even.

The Pharaoh's son is terribly sick, and they quickly head to the main building of the Palace, two bags of instruments in Sakura's hands.

They go up three flights of stairs and walk through two hallways before coming up to a large bedroom. Tsunade parts the beads hanging from the ceiling of the doorway, letting her come in after herself.

And that's when she sees her; her mother, forehead sweaty and hands moving over the child's body in order to assess him. She doesn't even look up when they enter, and Sakura's stuck to the floor for a second too long as she stares. In the two years she has been diligently studying to become a priestess, she hasn't really had the time to see her mother. The fact that she's there, just a few steps away from her, startles her for longer than it should, given the circumstances.

She notices her mother first, and second Uchiha Itachi, arms resting on the sides of his regal chair—one of many—while he overlooks the bed where his child lay. His wife is sitting in a smaller chair next to his, and Sasuke's next to Itachi like a dutiful soldier. He looks up as soon as he hears the beads of the entrance echo in the ample, empty space of the room.

The moment he turns, her dazed eyes shift from her mother's form to his own eyes, and he looks back—and, for a second, there's something akin to betrayal in his eyes, a quiet rage beyond simple confusion at her presence in such an intimate, critical moment in his family's treasured lineage.

She immediately averts her gaze, choosing to watch as Tsunade approaches Itachi instead.

"My Pharaoh," she announces herself, and he turns to look away from the ill child slowly, as if he's forcing himself to do so. "We're here to offer support from the Gods themselves. We will help however much we can."

Itachi stands from the chair, gracefully strides toward them, and grabs Tsunade's hands with a concerned look in his eyes. For the first time, Sakura wonders how this gentle man could possibly be Sasuke's relative. His eyes are soft and his presence is calming, and he whispers something to the older woman with a kind smile. If not for the obvious Uchiha physical resemblance, it would be almost impossible to make the connection between him and his younger brother.

She spaces out, she thinks, for Itachi's looking behind Tsunade and at her after a few seconds, and Sakura doesn't know what he's saying.

"I see you have brought your apprentice?"

Sakura looks into his incredibly warm eyes and smiles, but slightly vows to him as soon as she remembers her place.

"If you don't mind, she will be watching as I help," Tsunade explains, sidestepping so as to make way for Itachi to see her. "Sakura has a natural gift for healing, you see."

Itachi nods, then smiles at the woman in front of him, looking past her a second later.

"Sakura, you say?" She hears him mumble, and only when she looks up again does she realise he's looking at some point in the room—at _Sasuke_ in particular.

Sakura doesn't bother to check, but she's sure of it.

Itachi sighs. For a moment, he looks much older than he really is.

"Please, I fear he might not have enough time," he whispers to them, then he leads them to the child on the bed. "Mebuki, allow them to try."

Mebuki finally looks up at that, locks eyes with her daughter, and only freezes for a wobbly second. Sakura gives her a fleeting smile, and Mebuki only nods and steps away because she knows it is not the place to smile and exchange pleasantries with anyone at the moment.

Sakura looks back to the Pharaoh's son and watches as he lies unresponsive on the bed; if it weren't for the constant, subtle movement of his chest as he struggles to breathe, she would think him dead.

As most royal children, he has a shaved head and dark ink lining his eyes—though now, as he slumbers with sweat all over his face and dry tears staining his cheeks, it's all turning into a smudge of paint. He's covered from the waist down with white linen blankets and, though he's fast asleep, there's a frown to his brows from the pain she assumes he's bearing even now.

Tsunade starts asking questions, all after the other in succession as soon as she hears Mebuki—the assigned healer who has been assessing the child for over an hour—answer the first time.

"Pulse? Heart rate?"

"Frantic, it has been increasing over time."

"Has he woken up? When did this start?"

"I was notified as soon as the sun came up, and he has been in this state since yesterday night."

"What else can you tell me?" She asks, already pressing two fingers to the child's burning neck.

"His temperature is incredibly high, he started sweating a while back, but now he's stopped. However, he's started shaking slightly from time to time," her mother lists, glancing at them as Tsunade looks the child over, nodding once. "I presume it is poison, but I've never encountered this specific kind. If his last meal yesterday did this, it's certainly slow-moving and, most likely, lethal."

Tsunade nods again.

"I agree. It all points to poison being the cause but, by now, it has reached his bloodstream. Notice how he is not sweating anymore—that is a clear sign of infection."

Sakura inspects the young child from beside her mentor, and then she raises her head at the Pharaoh observing the entire ordeal, and at his wife beside him with her head down in her hands.

The pharaoh's wife lifts her head up and looks at Tsunade.

"What does that mean for him?" She asks, her tone laced with worry and underlined fear.

She's a beautiful, young woman, voice velvet smooth much like her husband's, with eyes as dark as the night and hair as black and long as it's customary for the Uchiha, but Sakura's heart skips a beat as she hears Tsunade next.

"I fear we are too late. If the poison has reached his blood, it won't be long before he ceases to breathe."

"No!" She exclaims, burying her face into her hands once more, weeping for a child that has been doomed to venture into the beyond far too soon in this life.

Death is always welcomed in this world, but death should not be welcomed this early. There are no other successors to the throne, no other heirs.

Sakura's breath catches in her throat at the display of utter despair from the woman. She, were it not for the dire circumstances, looks like an elegant, soft-spoken, kind Queen. Now, she has let all walls crumble down deep in her agony. Her wails are slightly muffled by her hands, but everyone hears them all the same.

Itachi, on the other hand, shows absolutely no emotion. He is expressionless as he gazes down at his pained, fragile son. And, in this calculating way, he does resemble Sasuke.

"Surely there must be something we can do," her mother whispers to Tsunade, making sure _only_ Tsunade hears this. But her mother is a doctor and she knows there's nothing else they can do. Still, for appearances, she has to ask.

"I am truly sorry, but the infection has been spread far too much." Tsunade looks over at Itachi, and offers a final consolation. "I will send a magical healer specialised in incantations from the Gods, if you so wish. It could help. In any case, the child might get rid of these toxins on his own."

Sakura can almost hear the Queen's heart breaking from across the bed, hopeless. Itachi gives a reluctant nod and sighs wearily.

"You may go, then. Thank you," is all he says. He looks composed enough, taciturn, just like his brother standing next to him.

But as Sakura walks toward the exit of the room, she gives one last, final glance behind her, only to see Itachi pulling his wife close to him, and kissing the top of her head.

* * *

Sakura hugs her mother as soon as they step outside the room, but her mother is busy, and must depart. She does promise, however, that she will go visit her in her Temple soon.

Sakura walks back to her Temple alongside Tsunade not long after, looking down at the dirt after an unsuccessful visit to an ill person—not to mention the Pharaoh's son out of all people.

The blonde abruptly stops as they pass the entrance of the Palace.

"I need to go down to the village. I know a few divine healers that have done wonders."

Sakura ponders, for a second, why Tsunade did not recite any spells in that room minutes ago. After all, she holds the title of High Priestess of the entire city. She is the main, most knowledgeable, oldest Priestess in the Palace, and she is revered and respected by all.

She voices out her thoughts only because, between them, there is a trust she can't exactly explain.

"Why did you not recite the words of the Gods? Do you not believe in the powers they hold?"

It may be bold, but Tsunade is a tough, straightforward woman. Lenient enough, but strict when she deems it necessary. Sakura has never respected someone so much before she met her.

"I do, child," she states. "But I believe in the facts more. And that child upstairs is sick beyond any salvation."

Sakura swallows, watching as she turns and leaves through the gates.

Hours later, she watches as a rather old man, bald and limping, walks outside of the gates, followed by two guards. She sees as Tsunade bids him farewell in the distance, but even from this far away she can make out the sad, disappointed expression on her face as he departs.

Sometimes, she realises for possibly the first time, not even the Gods can help you.

* * *

Three days pass in silence. On the fourth, everyone in the nation knows the sole heir to the throne of the Uchiha ruling has died at the tender age of four from possible poison.

All hope is quickly lost, and the power of the Pharaoh is rendered useless. At least, that's what she hears from the servants of the Palace, who visit the village more than she's allowed to. For now, it's all gossip here and there, but even the most innocent of gossips can be deadly in enemy's hands.

The Uchiha don't take attacks lightly—and this is how Konoha has been able to survive as the most prosperous village of Fire. As such, Itachi reinforces the village's borders, as well as the Palace itself.

Sakura can't even begin to imagine the grief he must be feeling, but he still does it. He still commands and arranges and moves things around, and he secures his village successfully.

Sakura gets a visit from her mother and they talk, she meets with Naruto on her break everyday, and she keeps learning under the tutelage of Tsunade.

She doesn't see Sasuke for a number of days she doesn't bother to keep track of.

* * *

Sasuke turns fifteen on a humid, suffocating, hot day. He celebrates with Itachi, his wife, and Naruto. It's a quiet celebration consisting of a simple feast and small-talk.

Ever since the death of his nephew, the Queen has remained silent. She does not look at anyone, she does not talk to anyone, and she barely moves outside of the comfort of her bed. Today, he's surprised she sits at the table with them at all.

They drink beer and wine and enjoy the afternoon. Naruto, as expected, is the main entertainment of the evening, but Sasuke would rather have his incessant blabbering than a stagnant, uncomfortable silence he's sure would have ensued were the knucklehead not present.

After the meal, they each go into their rooms, but Sasuke goes outside.

Really, the worst thing he could do, with the dying sun still drilling into his sweaty skin like a glue. He feels the humidity in the air so much he can taste it. It's no wonder that there is no one outside other than the guards on duty.

Sasuke keeps walking, though, because it is the perfect opportunity to purify himself.

It is another year he is alive, another year he's reminded of the fate of his clan, another year he should be grateful he came unscathed from the fire.

It's not that he truly believes in divination, or the Gods for that matter, but his mother did. His mother used to go to the temple of Isis every morning, and pray for hours. She used to tie pretty rocks around his neck and Itachi's when they were younger, saying they had powers of some sort. She would whisper spells to them at night, when she thought they were asleep, asking for protection, health, and prosperity.

And she fully, genuinely believed the Nile had magical powers to those who seek them.

Unfortunately for her, he never had to ability within him to believe in any of this with such a tight grip as she used to, and he is not blind by the faith. But going to the temples from time to time reminds him of her, and makes him feel closer to his treasured, kind mother, lost too soon.

He can think of no better time than today, with this suffocating weather, to bathe in the Nile in her memory.

The sacred river runs all along the border of Konoha, separating the village from the rest of the nation. There is one section that borders the Palace, which is secluded with fences from the village and the outside world, behind the three temples and down a steep hill.

Sasuke walks down the steps leading to the waters, hair sticking to his forehead from the excruciating heat. He reaches the bottom, and walks toward the bathing section.

It's an intricate, strategical section with wooden partitions placed in different locations, in a way that one can bathe without the intrusion of someone else in the near vicinity.

Not that he really cares, but he appreciates the semblance of privacy.

He strips himself of his robes, leaving them folded on the sand, and walks in the water until it reaches his thighs. He could almost thank the Gods for the relief of cold water on his warm skin. It's beyond refreshing.

The water is reaching his hips when he hears the splash of water nearby.

It shouldn't surprise him that there's someone else bathing today. They're smart, if anything.

Sasuke scoops up some water, and pours it over his head. It's not enough, though, so he submerges himself in the freezing waters a second later, relishing in the feeling it gives him. He swims forward for as long as he can stand it before he is forced to come up for air.

He stands again, the water reaching the top of his thighs now, and he's met with long, flowing, light pink _hair_.

It's Sakura, unmistakably. There is probably no one in the entire world with such peculiar shade of hair, much less a Priestess—a shaved head, really, is what's customary, but if Tsunade has allowed this small freedom, it is not in his place to question it. She's facing away from him, looking off into the dying light of the sun in front of them.

But the movement of water behind her when he came up for air startled her, and when she turns around and sees who it is, she immediately freezes on the spot, long hair flying around her and sticking to her small, pert breasts from turning so abruptly.

They are two steps away from each other, completely nude, staring at one another. She opens her mouth to say something, but it's as if she's stuck to the sand beneath her feet, completely paralysed and taken off guard by the unforeseen circumstances.

Sasuke, on the other hand, appears more in control—and, really, when does he not? Still, she notices that he chooses to remain silent as well, but his eyes speak for himself more than a thousand words ever could. They almost unconsciously drift from her own. Past her petrified green eyes, past her pink lips, past her smooth, slender neck.

She's shorter than him, so the water only reaches her bellybutton. Sasuke's eyes roam her body as far as he can see, and he notices _everything_. Much more than he would like to admit, and yet, in the mere five seconds he takes to appreciate what he has never had the chance to, he can't stop himself—and maybe, quite possibly, he does not want to.

Sakura sees him looking; it's quick, and it's with a calculating glint in his gaze, almost as if he's observing a map belonging to a foreign city. She might be frozen, in shock, and scared for her life, but she's aware of everything around her, including the distant, familiar yell she hears from up the hill.

Sasuke hears it too, because his gaze snaps up to her eyes again in immediate recognition. They wait a heartbeat, but when Naruto yells Sakura's name again, Sasuke starts looking more alarmed than shrewd in an instant.

"Is that-"

She doesn't get to finish her obvious question, for Sasuke grabs her wrist and pulls her behind one of the partitions, placed in a way that hides the Palace ahead. It's meant to be for one person, however, and the space between them becomes almost unbearably short.

Sasuke looks down at her and lets go of her wrist, a breath in between them, her chest brushing against his stomach.

"Stay still," he commands her, whispering. "The last thing I need is for Naruto, the biggest loudmouth I know, to think a mistaken conviction if he sees us."

If he wasn't so close to her—if she couldn't smell him, feel his hot breath on her face, brush against his body by mistake—his words would have hurt way more.

As it is, she only nods. In a way, she understands, and it benefits her just as much, if not more. It wouldn't help either of them—a Prince and a royal Priestess in training—to be seen together in a sacred river like this, naked in front of the other. People might get a false belief. _Especially_ someone like Naruto.

They stand still, and patiently wait for the blond to stop looking for her; it is her break, after all, and she had lost track of time in the water. She should be up there with him right now—and in a darker, secretive part of her, she knows she would rather Sasuke find her in this state than Naruto. Had Sasuke not arrived to bathe, and had Naruto found her in the water later instead, she would have never recovered; more so because, sometimes, she gets the feeling the blond might have a small crush on her, and she wouldn't know how to handle that situation.

Just by the thought of it, she feels a tremor run down her body. Sasuke feels it through her, and she stills again as he looks down at her with annoyance.

"Sorry," she whispers, looking up at him.

A mistake really, because now he's staring at her lips, and she wants nothing more than the possibility of her first kiss being given by the boy she has always liked come to fruition.

"-Said she was going to the river. She'll be back soon."

_Tsunade._

"I'll go check then, thanks, granny Tsunade!"

_Naruto._

They stop breathing for a second at the concept of now facing Naruto if he walks all the way down to the river, but Sasuke barely hears the distant conversation now. All he can focus on is Sakura's annoyingly pink hair covering her breasts, reaching down to her waist. He looks down at the rose of her full cheeks, the subtle tan of her skin, and the faded freckles she has over the bridge of her nose. He had never noticed that before. He had also never noticed the exact shade of her eyes; and he realises, then, that there's no stationary hue. It's ever-changing, slightly, almost imperceptibly, but they are never the one dull green. They are blue, green, coral green, some yellow, some moss, and a forest of its own, and when she bats her pretty eyelashes at him, maybe only in this one moment, he can allow himself a small instance of weakness.

He's dipping his head down against his best wishes, and Sakura can't know for sure, but he definitely feels closer to her than he did a minute ago.

"No, you won't! She's bathing, you will wait for her here and that is final!"

Sakura hears some complaining from her friend, and then it all falls silent.

She can assume he's gone, yet they remain, standing so close she can almost taste him like she has wanted to for years.

Sakura, with acute awareness of her situation, thinks this might be the only opportunity she may ever have to kiss the man of her dreams, and so she places her hands against his chest, and stands on her tiptoes. He is a Prince, and she is bound to the Gods, to her Temples, and to nothing more than that.

One day, she knows, he will reign over the cities of Fire. One day, she knows, he will be married to a beautiful woman who thinks alike, who complements him, who has black hair and black eyes as him to continue the pure bloodline of the Uchiha. One day, this will be strictly forbidden. One day, but not right now.

Right now, she selfishly takes what she can get and kisses him sweetly, a soft caress against his awaiting lips, too short-lived to even know it truly happened, but electric enough to make her remember for an eternity.

She moves away.

He looks down at her with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. It had felt foreign, but not necessarily unnatural.

Sasuke has the sudden urge to dip his head down again to capture her soft lips fully, not like the superficial touch he had felt; to kiss her deeply, to grab her waist and press her body completely against his. The emotion makes him blink dizzily, and he clears his throat.

"I think he's gone now," Sasuke whispers, wanting nothing more than to compose himself.

The last thing he sees is the flash of hurt from her clear eyes, and then she's gone.

* * *

Sakura now sees him only when he comes to her Temple, like she saw him once so many months ago.

She finds that he likes to enter the Temple at night, close to the early morning, but still dark enough to conceal him from plain view. She observes him from the shadows of her room—which overlooks the back of the Temple, where Isis stands.

He only ever prays to Isis, for reasons unknown to her, and he does so silently. He kneels down and closes his eyes for seconds, minutes, and sometimes he stays for an entire hour. Sakura has seen him so often she can recognise his stealthy steps on the floor as he passes by the hallway of the temple's rooms in direction toward the statue of Isis, and she always wakes, without fail.

If it's an invasion of privacy, she doesn't let that stop her. This is the only time she can see him at all these days, ever since the chaste kiss they shared so many weeks ago. And here, too, he shows a side of him she has never seen before. He is quiet, as usual, but he is at peace. There are no creases to his forehead, no furrowed brows, no purse to his lips.

He is the Sasuke she is beginning to love, if only from a distance.


End file.
